so glad they do

the new life you long for comes at the price of the thing you’re too afraid to let go of

again tonight

why did no one ever tell me there was such wholeness in not knowing?

like manure in a rose garden

like a yawn that makes your fingertips tingle just before you slumber

hopes tempered by dread I dream

how tempting it is to blame others for the loneliness of life

the degree to which I am able to grieve

in the same way

does the germinating seed resent the surface?

sometimes I fear I’ll never learn how to truly handle the joy